


Phil Coulson: Make Out Bandit

by hyperion



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Crack, F/M, Fluff, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-23
Updated: 2013-07-27
Packaged: 2017-12-21 02:39:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/894830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyperion/pseuds/hyperion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil Coulson will basically kiss anything that sits still long enough. This is a series of firsts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The first time Phil Coulson kissed another person was at Boy Scout camp. Within two days of arrival, he’d become best friends with Tom. Within five days of arrival, he and Tom had snuck away from their groups and met just out of sight of the walking trail in the woods. As soon as they could no longer see the trail, Tom turned around and pulled Phil to him, kissing him before Phil knew what was happening. Everything Phil had known about himself in his brief twelve years shifted into another realm. Suddenly, he went from not having considered boys before to knowing that he was gay.

With efficiency that would follow him for the rest of his life, Phil pushed Tom away, pushed him down. Tom looked up at him, horrified and panicked. Then Phil was on top of him, hands in Tom’s hair, pulling Tom’s head back, taking advantage of Tom’s open mouth. They kissed and kissed and kissed until their lips were sore. “Oh my God,” whispered Phil, out of breath.

*

The first time Phil Coulson met Nick Fury, he thought Fury was hitting on him. Coulson was in a bar Langley, VA. There were people in Langley that had a borderline fetish for typically well-dressed and vaguely dangerous men and women. Given that this was a gay bar, and he was wearing a fitted suit and his gun was imprinting through his jacket, men were coming his way.

“I understand you’re a good man to know,” a man said, leaning against the bar next to Coulson.

Phil looked the man over. Tall, dark, handsome, one eye. “That depends on what you want,” he replied.

“I want to have this conversation in private.”

Phil smiled around the opening of his beer bottle, taking a drink. “Moving that quickly, are we?”

“There are some sensitive issues I’d like to discuss with you.”

“I’ll bet it’s sensitive,” Phil said, letting his eyes roam down the other man’s body and settle on his crotch before moving back up. He put his bottle on the counter, mentally counting up how much he had had to drink that night. “What the hell?” he muttered before nearly grabbing Fury by the ears and pressing himself up against the other man from groin to nose. Had Coulson been just a little more sober, he might have noticed that Fury wasn’t responding before he felt Fury’s hands on his wrists, breaking Phil’s grip and pushing him back.

“Huh,” Phil said. “That’s different.”

“I don’t want to fuck you,” Fury said slowly. He pulled out his wallet and gave Phil a card. 

“Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division,” Phil read. “What the hell is that?”

“My number is on the back. You have until 3:00 PM tomorrow to call me.”

“What about moving quickly?”

“I want you sober when we talk.”

*

Phil was always meticulous about his paperwork. However, he was tempted to omit a few facts from one outing with Black Widow. He was her handler on the mission. It had gone to shit and she needed an extraction. Getting her out had been the easy part. Once they were on the street again, they needed to hide in plain sight from hostiles who (hopefully) didn’t yet have their descriptions but had to know that they were nearby. 

They walked very nonchalantly, arm in arm, like a couple enjoying the cool night air. Neither of them even stiffened at the sound of footsteps running on pavement, hardly noticed the men pass them by. They kept an eye on the men though, saw them stop at the next intersection, heard “redhead” come from their radios. The nearest exit was an alley, but one look at it showed that it was a dead end.

“Ready?” Phil asked, reaching for his gun. This mess was getting bigger.

“Over here,” Natasha said, pulling him into the alley. She backed up against a wall and held him close. “I’m a prostitute. You’re my John. Go.” She wrapped one leg around him as she unzipped her top to expose her bra and breasts. Natasha kissed Phil on the mouth, just lips but messy enough to smear her lipstick on him.

By then, the men had backtracked to the alley. They shone their flashlights on Phil and Natasha just a moment before Natasha pushed him away and complained, “I told you kissing on the mouth is extra.” And then, “You boys are going to have to wait your turn,” to the men at the mouth of the alley. They hesitated. Natasha said to Phil, “Meter’s running.”

“Fuck off,” Phil spat at the men, grabbing Natasha’s ass. “I’m not paying for a show for you assholes.”

There was a beat where Phil thought that it hadn’t worked. But then the men turned off their flashlights and kept walking. Phil and Natasha looked at each other, and for the first time, Phil heard Natasha laugh like she meant it. “That was close.”

“We should probably stay here for a few more minutes, in case they’re still in sight of the alley.” 

Natasha dropped her leg from Phil’s waist. She waited a moment before saying, “Coulson. Your hand is still on my ass.”

“Oh, sorry,” he said, pulling his hand back like her butt burned him. He stepped back and politely looked away as Natasha zipped her top back up.

“You know, you’re the only man in recent memory that hasn’t been hypnotized by my rack.”

“I’m gay,” Phil said simply. “They’re…You’re beautiful. But I’m gay.”

*

Phil never actually kissed Tony Stark. But he did threaten one time. He was on Stark-sitting duty again. Something major needed Tony’s undivided attention and Tony wanted to do about fifty other things. He kept trying to distract Phil, to get him talking about anything other than Tony’s work. 

“Is there any time when you shut up?” Phil asked.

Tony tilted his head, thinking. “I tend not to talk when my mouth is otherwise occupied.”

Phil leered at him. “I could do something about that.”

Tony shut his mouth. For several seconds, all he did was blink. Finally, he replied, “That thing you just did, where you were totally mild-mannered civil servant and then metamorphosed into a sexual predator in half a second, that was creepy. Um, I’m going to go back to work now. You stay over there.”

*

Coulson had been aware of Barton’s growing crush. He had decided that the best course of action was to ignore it and continue business like nothing was out of the ordinary. It was becoming increasingly more difficult because Phil was finding himself have thoughts about Barton that exceeded the professional.

Then there was the problem of Barton taking up residence in Coulson’s office ceiling. Clint roaming around ducts and the like generally wasn’t considered a problem as he was both trustworthy and it helped security discover weaknesses they had overlooked. Phil had yet to notify security about the possibility for this breach.

But Phil _knew_ when Clint was up there, and that was driving him to distraction. Not only was it impossible for him to do some of his work while Clint was above him (security clearance), but also Phil was beginning to entertain devious thoughts about what to do when Barton was above him. Like maybe pull out his cock and start jacking off where Clint could see.

He finally had had enough when he heard a soft snore above his desk. Phil looked up and pinpointed where the sound was coming from. He then removed files from his desk and pushed back his monitor. He determined his trash can was sturdy enough and put it on his desk upside down. He stepped up on it and lifted the ceiling tile adjacent to Clint, setting it aside. Clint startled awake. 

“Hi,” Phil said.

“Hello.”

“What can I do to keep you out of my ceiling?”

“I guess I do need to stop this,” Clint admitted. “It was fun at a first. I think I’m becoming obsessed.”

“Barton, I work as your handler very often. That’s why I’ve tried to ignore this. You’re driving me crazy.”

“Sorry, Coulson. I’ll be…I’ll stop this.”

Phil smiled. “Good. I’d hate to have to bring a candlelight dinner up here for our date tomorrow night.” Then he leaned forward, arms braced on frame for the ceiling tiles, and kissed the surprise off Clint’s face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hulk gets a turn.

So Hulk wasn’t always the friendliest monster-person to be around. It was always a risk to have him out, because no one could be sure that he wouldn’t take his anger out on his teammates this time. Natasha was still hyper vigilant around him, though she was becoming more at ease with Bruce. Even if Hulk focused entirely on the enemy, there was always a chance he might accidently step on someone.

Even Coulson worried about Hulk rampages, and he was generally the most unflappable person on earth. But he found himself wincing every time Hulk moved near another Avenger. It became bothersome enough that Coulson asked Fury to have another agent be their handler when they worked as a team. Not because he was particularly upset by anything Hulk did, but because he knew constantly scanning for Hulk to make sure that that big green guy wasn’t squishing Captain America or tripping over Iron Man meant that Coulson wasn’t as focused on the job as he should be. Coulson was too fastidious to allow himself to become a liability.

This lasted for about twenty minutes into the next mission. Coulson was so worried about his team that ordered video of the op and commanded audio to be patched in so he could take over. 

“And what does Fury think about this?” Agent Caster demanded.

“He thinks you should shut your fucking mouth and let me handle this,” Coulson replied in a calm and relaxed demeanor that he did not currently possess.

As soon as Coulson had his end of the comms muted, Fury was standing at his shoulder, coffee mug in hand, asking, “Is that what I think?”

“Yes, sir, you do.”

“Everybody gets one,” Fury mumbled, sipping his coffee.

“Not true, sir. No one else gets one, and I get at least five.”

Fury looked down on Coulson. “How do you figure?”

“Well, boss, I very graciously haven’t told a soul about the time you tried to pick me up in that bar.”

“I didn’t try to pick you up,” Fury said flatly.

“I think by the time it gets around S.H.I.E.L.D., you will have successfully picked me up and thoroughly debauched me. You probably still are regularly. And either Barton won’t have a clue or he’ll be in on it as well.”

“That’s two.”

The conversation lulled as Coulson issued directions to the Avengers, advising them of an oncoming wave of attackers. It was easier for him to manage this one, since Fury had very deftly diffused him, but Coulson still decided that he needed to be on site. “I’m taking a screen and a bird,” he said, grabbing a Stark tablet and switching the video feed to it.

When Coulson was two minutes from the battle, most of the enemy had been wiped out. In fact, he was able to set down relatively close to the scene. The Avengers were making their way back to the center, taking out random enemy survivors here and there. Coulson was only a block away, having just put down one of his own, when he saw someone raise some sort of pulse rifle and aim for Hawkeye.

“Haw—” was pretty much all he was able to get out in a warning before the guy fired.

And Hulk was just there. Coulson couldn’t see what had happened to Clint because Hulk was in the way. Half a heartbeat later, he realized that Hulk had taken the shot for Clint. He had been aware of Clint and saved him. Coulson ran straight at them, and Hulk stepped to the side with a chesty rumble.

“Scared the shit out of me,” Clint was saying when Coulson got to him.

“You’re okay?” he asked, taking Clint’s face in his hands and checking him.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“I thought…I l thought…” he trailed off, not being able to speak it and remembering that he still had a job to do. He tapped the button for comms. “Everyone report.” Captain America was just arriving at the meeting point, Iron Man was being a charming asshole, and Black Widow was on her way. Coulson turned to Hulk. “I want to talk to you. Face to face.”

Hulk frowned at him, huffing, before snatching Coulson up and bringing him to eye level.

“Closer,” Coulson said.

Hulk gave him a warning sneer, but drew him in closer.

“A little more.”

And then Coulson was close enough to lean forward and wrap his arms around Hulk’s head and kissed his nose. The chesty rumble was back, but the quality was a little warmer. Hulk tolerated the nose kiss/head hug combo until Coulson let him go.

“Thank you,” Coulson said to him. Hulk lowered him, and Coulson thought that he would be set down, but Hulk snatched up Clint and pushed the two men toward each other in a very “now kiss” sort of way.

Later, when Coulson had finished briefing Fury and explaining why he and Barton both had broken noses, Fury leaned back in his chair and put his hands together. “It takes a very brave man to kiss a Hulk,” he said solemnly.

Coulson kept a perfect poker face as he said, “Everybody gets one.”

**Author's Note:**

> Langley, VA is the home of the CIA.


End file.
